If blogs were like books, this one would be dusty. I didn’t go read my last post but I saw the date–May 2018. I was about to throw my hands in the air and jump into a committed relationship with alcohol.

There was a lot of work to get to the point of writing about rehab and recovery. At least, on an open forum. I remember two things vividly that are very important. The first is sitting in a group for the first time and looking at the 12 steps poster on a wall in rehab. The first step is “admitting we were powerless over alcohol and our lives had become unmanageable.” I felt relieved to read that. I couldn’t put into words what life had become for me and here it was written so succinctly.

The second was hearing alcoholism (a term I don’t use much now) referred to as a “spiritual malady.” Nothing could describe it better. I had always been a spiritual person until things got to the point where I gave up on my God. I have referred to God as the Universe most often to remind me its infinitely larger than I can ever comprehend. I found a quote that sums up my spiritual malady best.

That Esther Nicholson is one smart cookie. As I was forced into the 12 steps, a recurring topic was God as you understand him. Well, I had not been close to my God in a very long time. As I stumbled through recovery, I had to try to find a way to connect. They told us if we had to use the group conscience to do so. If we had to use the doorknob as a higher power, do so. Just use whatever you could and so that is what I did.

When I got back to Mississippi, I delayed getting a sponsor but regularly attended meetings. I prayed a lot during that time. By the time I got a sponsor, I was close to mending the gap back to spirituality, but something felt off. I couldn’t make the connection I had pre-abuse. One day I was in a meeting and tried to visualize God. What would God look like if God sat next to me?

The first vision I conjured up that I could accept was a heavy set, eloquent speaking African American woman. Yes, now this is someone I would pay attention to and who would deliver words of wisdom. And then, a second vision popped up. A young man in his 20s with a beard in skinny jeans and sunglasses. Wtf? A hipster. And then it dawned on me that yes, I am exactly the kind of person to find wisdom in places least expected.

I switched back and forth for the next few weeks. As I went through intense therapy, the matronly figure who could wrap her arms around me and hold me and deliver news gently was useful. But more often than not, I would have to envision the hipster dude just sitting there having a coffee and imparting divine wisdom.

Regardless, it works for me. I’m not out here telling people how to think of God, but I am sharing my experience because it was one of the biggest gates to open in recovery. Having some way to communicate was essential. Now I see hipster dude when I read my devotional or when I go into a tension filled meeting at the office. He’s there reminding me to be anxious for nothing.

Some will see this as blasphemy, but I see it as curing my malady. ❤️

So yesterday I shared a candid post referencing a local bar. I have been going there for a few years. Well before the new owners took over. I found out Tuesday that I am no longer welcome there.

Now what’s funny is that the bartenders held a vote and decided they didn’t want to serve me. From what I gather, their decision was based on my ex claiming I made statements about them…. The guy who went on vacation and never came back. He hates said bar and he also did some pretty dirty things to the employees, who supposedly were his best friends. According to the limited information I got, he told them that I said all kinds of shit about the bar and staff. No, rather, anything I heard came from him. But it’s not my business. And I still supported it.

Back up, HE told me he hated the place. He told me he was going to “tell the owner all about her bar” and what goes on there. Keep in mind he worked there prior, I didn’t. I have gone and supported this bar from the beginning and always, always taken good care of the staff. I don’t have anything but limited explanation as to my being turned away.

However I can put two and two together. Whatever he said or did is now being blamed on me. I can tell you that I mentioned the employees there twice to him and one of which was that his actions were affecting me. I told him I was barely looked at or served the last time I went. Again, he’d been pretty shady and I don’t condone his actions but I also can’t make a man do something.

Let’s be clear–if I have a beef with someone it isn’t hidden. I don’t go out of my way to start shit, certainly never have in that establishment, but I won’t be a fake either. I would have also unfriended a good 10-12 people if I had shit to say TO them or ABOUT them. Hell, rationality tells you if I didn’t want to see or support these people I wouldn’t go there or tip well. I knew the last time I went my ex had done at least one person wrong and that’s why I got the treatment I did. And this whole episode of me talking shit, is also guilt by association.

If this sounds like me playing the victim, I want to clear that up real quick. I have avoidance issues with emotions. I don’t like crying or hurting and I do have a tendency to drink too much when that happens. I am not blameless. If I had not used alcohol as a crutch, I wouldn’t be the kind of person that anyone would believe would say things like whatever it is they think I said. I wish I could sit here and say I have a couple and leave, but that’s a lie and every bartender there knows me. I enjoyed each and everyone of them, usually for at least a couple of hours, and felt I treated them well.

So I think what it comes down to is they believed a guy who screwed me over- admitted to me he wanted the place to suffer because HE didn’t like the people- when he said it came from me. I promise you this, I have a shit ton more issues with him than any of the staff.

Having said that, karma is real. I didn’t lie in my post about said establishment, but I don’t want to be an asshat despite what I think is going on. So if you saw that post, go to that bar. Support the female-owned venue and tip the bartenders well. That’s what I did for more than three years up til this week. I know for a fact they are hard-working people, some of whom have invited me into their homes. I don’t wish them unwell or else I wouldn’t have walked into the place to find out I am not welcome. I always referred to it as my Cheers.

I am incredibly hurt that they would believe lies but I am also aware that my behavior has apparently led to their believing what they hear. I’m sad, I miss my friends, I actually do love that place. I’m paying the price for someone else’s actions and my habit of making bad decisions, but they shouldn’t. They might not serve me, but I don’t want them to be affected by that. Again, these are people I called my friends and prayed for and respected. So please do go there and have a blasty blast.

I was driving earlier and saw a kid of whatever age (y’all know that’s not my area at all) walking along Dedeaux Rd as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was still young and I hope his parents (or whatever he is lucky to have) knew where he was.

Let me just say, it’s been a bad day and my state of mind isn’t cheery. I had the thought that I’d like to pull over and get out of the car and say, “Hey kid, sit down a minute and let’s discuss some things. Life things. Big stuff you need to know and probably don’t.

First of all, you know that feeling when you don’t get the present you hoped for? That’s called disappointment. And, you need to adjust to that feeling very quickly. You only have a short period of time before everyday feels like you didn’t get the present you asked for.

Speaking of presents, most of your life is a sham. A complete lie if you want full blown honesty (that you didn’t ask for). Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy…they are ALL in on the charade! Every last one of them. And truth is that no one brings you presents on Easter so stop expecting that. As for losing something, like a body part, well you don’t get money for it. You get bills for it, kid. Cancer isn’t free and I was one of the very luckiest ones. Others–people you love–don’t have great insurance and doctors to help them.

Speaking of people you love, and look it hurts me to be the one to tell you but you need to understand it, they start dropping like flies out of your life for one reason or another. You know how hard it is to make new friends sometimes at camp and stuff? Well as an adult I have to go through that every single day. And then sometimes those same people hurt you. Sometimes you’ll hurt them. Sometimes they hurt themselves and you watch. There is a myriad of reasons for the coming and going just be assured it is constant and never feels good.

Not to be overly morbid but sometimes people leave us via death. And they say you do this thing called ‘grieving.’ Well honestly, that’s just a term for something that means you will always miss them. And you aren’t really prepared for a lot of it. A LOT. It’s natural for your parents and grandparents to die before you and that’s what everyone wishes for I think, I’m not really an expert in case you haven’t figured that out, but when they do get sick it makes you feel just awful. You don’t really want it even though you know that’s how it all works. Sometimes it’s our best childhood friend that’s taken. Sometimes it’s a guy or a girl you used to date and had been meaning to say hi to and see how they were but you missed the opportunity.

And if you want really, really good advice here, don’t watch the news. It’s all about people bullying one another, arguing over who is least wrong, other people’s suffering is announced to the world, and overall it’s just real shitty. And yes, you can say bad words. Just kinda watch where you do it and who you call what, ya know? There are some consequences but hell, say shit and damn, especially to yourself, all ya want. It helps sometimes.

So that’s the foundation of what is really going on. If you want more where this came from, look up a guy named Charles Bukowski. He’s a little more poetic on some of these things than I am. Oh and I’m sorry for ruining you day, kid, but get used to it.”

Instead, I drove past and ate my Burger King with my dogs. So rest assured no one’s innocence was stripped today because of me. But it did cross mind. He looked like a good kid.

The last thing I said to God was a silent scream a couple weeks ago and “why must you take everything away?!” followed by tears for Sadie, my yellow lab taken between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I haven’t spoken to the Universe since. 

Just a few years ago, I constantly listened to what would be considered new age audiobooks and read a gamut of works ranging from Christian to not. I was a true believer in the Universe and had a close relationship with it. Previous blogs attest to that. Sadie’s death was the last straw between us. 

I completely understand now how people become hardened and mean and pick up habits they can’t let go. The last three years have taken all I ever had and plucked it away, one thing at a time. What wasn’t taken away was indefinitely altered. And what wasn’t altered was left badly in need of repair and TLC. Two dogs passing, cancer scare with a new cyst to worry about now, a global love story that ended badly, my parents health decline and being 500 miles away, job loss, job changes, salary cuts, horrible relationships here and there after love died, packing up and moving then not, a house that needs things done to it and I can’t do it….. everything snowballed. 

So when I read about horrible things people did in the news, I always wonder what it is we don’t know about them and never will that turned them that way. I won’t ever go on a shooting spree or harm anyone in anyway, but I certainly see how life abandons us and takes good people who love and care and hurts them. And how it’s really, really, really hard to get through it after the last straw goes. If I didn’t have Wilbur, my new/old job, friends, and alcohol…I would be a different person right now. But those things made me laugh and remind me to love, forgive, and not give up hope…yet.

Dear Sadie, We had to create a new normal after you left. I think your wise, old soul knew it all along though it wasn’t outwardly said, you were my anchor for a long time. It will be a neverending debate which of us needed the other the most. That douchebag I dated had the audacity to message me and call it a “symbiotic relationship.” It sealed the hate I had for him. But also proved the point I knew all along, some people try and name it but can’t find words for the one thing that saves us sometimes-LOVE.

It was, and is, hard to come home with you not being here, Sadie Jane. You always deserved a better Mommy, sweet girl. I told you that. You know how dark it was inside when you came. But you also know the love and light you brought. You gave me a reason to care, to come home, to keep trying, to give a shit about not being homeless and giving up completely. I would sleep on the street and give up on me, but I would not do that to you. The love in your eyes and smile on your face gave me the motivation I needed. It was constant, calm, quiet and tender. It was what Mommy needed baby girl. Thank you.

I have one blanket of Sadie hair beside the bed that I can’t bring myself to wash yet. I know you’re not going to be next to me, but it’s a visual reminder of the love you gave to me when times were downright shitty and I lived in anxiety. You saw me through that and when I could laugh and breathe again, you stayed right there on the blanket same as always. The gurus teach that if we can find that same kind of silent peace inside us no matter what goes on around us, we will find heaven. Thank you for that piece of heaven on old blankets, Sadie.

Thank you for loving Wilbur. Maybe you knew you had to go soon and ushered him into the family for me. Thank god for him. He’s not exactly the anchor your wise, old soul was my dear Sadie. He’s a hot mess! He keeps me on my toes and his advice is quite different. Plus, he’s a boy! Yuck!! But he loves me and I love him. And I think you knew long before I did that young, little bones would bring me much comfort. He does. Thank you.

Before you got sick, Sadie, I hadn’t cried–really cried–in a couple of years. My heart was kinda shut down. You know that you opened it and showed me the first love in a long time. I know you know. I didn’t know until you weren’t here to kiss goodnight and good morning. So even though there is a lot of tears and snot today, most days are peaceful knowing you came and taught me what you needed to. I feel lighter and loved. I thank you so much.

You were the best damn dog in the world, Sadie. Smarter than I will ever be, my angel in fur. Thank you for letting me be the one you came to at the end and sharing it with me.

Love,

Mom

He is my Jerry, I’m his Elaine. We do art, music, parties, hotspots, restaurants… you name it, the last few years have created many a memory. And whether I was dancing, crying, lonely, happy, bored or scared shitless in my recliner wondering if they got all the cancer cells off my leg…he was there. Jerry is advancing in his career and moving just an hour away, but it feels much further. My heart delights for him. He has worked very, very diligently and dedicated himself 100% and is deserving of the new role. 

But a tiny bit of me aches today knowing we spent our last night as Jerry and Elaine together. Few are the people who come around and are the rocks–the ones that just are always there whether it’s day or night. He’s steady and always brings the practical side to my whimsy. It’s just a friendship that has an uncanny balance full of laughs and amusement. Well, we amuse ourselves. That’s all that matters. 

So here’s to Jerry for always being there when I needed him. And hopefully Elaine has done her part and reciprocated. No need to get a tissue out. Love to Jerry and congrats as you adult so well my brother! 

Back in the day, I remember a string of devout believers always wanted to know your zodiac sign.  Then when you did something, it’d be, “oh, typical sagittarius” and whatnot.  At age 3(cough), I find we’ve all had time to blow the lid off our zodiac destinies and kind of fall into just who we are; defined now by our experiences and decisions.  And let’s face it, our own string of crazy.  So after some discussion with on a non-date, the topic of “what’s your crazy” came up.  I did not have an answer handy so I took a while to reflect on it and I came to a two part answer.

The first sign of Apryl crazy creeps in when my passion is submerged.  Note that this is the first blog since August.  I used to blog daily.  Sometimes, more than once a day AND I have always kept a private journal.  While the video blogs are at least a comical routine addressing the daily struggle of someone trying to start over in life unexpectedly, they don’t really replace a good dose of blogging and journaling.  Hence, I woke up today to the song of the birds singing and two pups sleeping and grabbed the laptop.  I don’t care if my blogs get 1 view, would drive the AP police crazy and mean nothing to the world.  To me, they are–and have always been–cathartic. And maybe that’s why I’ve grown more bitter, negative, hopeless and losing faith by the pound.  I need to release the mental thoughts I hold captive whether they are right or wrong so that I can ponder them and make room for new ones.  When I stopped doing that, I began to feel less Apryl-like and nothing is worse than losing yourself.  So while you shouldn’t expect a link posted to social media every blog, DO expect more blogging.

The second crazy I have is insecurity.  This is the faster acting, more escalated crazy.  I listen to a lot of Wayne Dyer and last night before falling asleep I listened closely to him speaking on “there are no justified resentments.”  That is a concept I’ve often heard him speak and at one point, probably had mastered.  The problem is that while I may not look at the past as anger, I definitely feel it it lurking in the shadows of my soul as insecurities.  No haunted house compares to things inside us that we don’t talk about.  Imagine walking through an exaggerated, larger than life version of some of the things we keep inside us.  Truth be told, I fell in love with a guy who was stationed in Italy to get out of Afghanistan… only to find out he didn’t feel the same, but he wouldn’t just come out and openly say it once he figured that out.  That did something.  That made me a little crazy.  Add to it some pretty horrible choices when it comes to men after and yeah, I’m a little insecure in my ability to pick a partner.

The alarm now says I have just enough time left for coffee and daily reading to my day started on a positive note. If you care to think about it or you already know, everyone has a crazy side, what’s yours?

Hemingway said, “write hard and clear about what hurts.”  I hate to be uber-artsy and abstract, but I think the journey of writing will lead to my knowing what hurts.  Because truthfully, I feel what hurts, but I can’t legitimately nail down what it is.  I kind of picked up some pain and just kept walking with it.  I didn’t address the pain when it came–and in all fairness life came undone rapidly.  And just as quickly, it brightened again.  But much like walking out of a dark room into direct sunlight, it can take a minute to adjust.  I’m adjusting.  I’m examining it.

You know how Oprah has “aha” moments?  I hate to be unoriginal and steal that, but I had about 100 aha moments this week.  I started reading Pema Chodron’s The Places That Scare You and I got 20 pages in the first two days.  Keep in mind, it’s under 200 pages; I figured I’d finish it in a couple of hours tops.  Nooooo.  I have to stop and think after every paragraph.  Sometimes, every sentence in the paragraph is a “whoa, let me read that seven times” kind of moment.  It has made me think more about that ball of pain I talked about in the last blog.  The one I feel like weighs me down; something so heavy that I carry around inside me each and every day.  It’s very inconvenient.  And, quite unnecessary.  

Wayne Dyer always said, “there are no justified resentments.”  Before Chodron’s book ever arrived, I went and found his book 10 Secrets for Success & Inner Peace days ago just to read that chapter again in full.  I was meditating a week or so ago, that statement came to mind and it has stuck there. I have been trying to find a way to put it into practice.  With Chodron’s book, I’m finally starting to put the pieces together.

Here’s the thing: I don’t hold the guy who broke my heart accountable for my pain.  Sure, it could have been different and I suffered every emotion imaginable that year.  But it’s been a year and half since I was in therapy one day and realized there was nothing he could ever say to make my vision of “how it was supposed to be” come to pass.  At that moment, I began to accept the reality of what happened and, more importantly, started living a tad bit more in the moment.  It was a small, but important change.  A couple of things happened, one a boundary was built.  Though we were no longer in contact with one another, something clicked and made me realize he was no longer welcome in my space.  Neither my physical space or mental space.  

A second–and far more freeing thing–is that I don’t hold someone else accountable, it’s MY pain.  I own it.  The hurt and disappointment I feel has slowly become mine.  I take responsibility for feeling this way.  I’m holding onto it.  It’s like a car title I put in my name. By taking it as my own, I have the power to change it.  Otherwise, I’m a victim and manipulated by the pain.  Feeling like it was a force I had to fight, I drank too much, made bad decisions, carried around resentment, etc until the point I felt bullied by it.  The day I said, “Oh, this is my pain and I have complete ownership of it” is the day that pain became half the size it was.  And now, after reading just 20 pages of Chodron’s book, it’s more clear than ever that I only carry it around because I choose to.  Hard as that is to admit–here I have been living as a victim for two years and fighting something imaginary–it’s also incredibly freeing.  

That heaviness only comes with me everywhere because I allow it.  If I let go of the resentment and just accept with love and much simplicity, “It didn’t work out” and live in today, I feel more alive than ever before.  My energy level increases.  The attention and love for everyone and everything increases.  But having loved someone and not being loved in return is only a piece of a much larger picture. If I am honest, it’s a combination of a lot of things changing very quickly.  And I think I’m going to have to pick them apart, one by one.  Like removing layers and layers of peeling paint on a wall, I’m going to have get down to the surface and see what’s really there.

Now, where do I start?….Maybe I just did.    

The last couple of weeks I’ve had migraines attack in my sleep.  I wake up in enormous pain.  I don’t have any hints they are coming.  Ice packs and tons of ibuprofen and aspirin usually back the pain down, but they are becoming more frequent and painful.  Today I woke at 1am in some of the worst pain yet.  I remember getting ice and an 800mg ibuprofen and laying back down.  I didn’t get back to sleep and I somewhat remember the storm coming through.  Adam said it was pretty strong.  I remember Sadie trying to get into the bed and me trying to pet her and keep the ice pack underneath me.  I went back to sleep at some point after she had calmed down.  When I woke up, I felt like I had been in a fight.  My muscles going all down my neck and into my shoulders are sore.  I have an appointment at the clinic to talk to the doctor later.  Praise the Lord for benefits!

I hate sick days because I don’t know how to be sick.  I feel nothing but guilt and like I should be doing something.  When I get text and emails from work, it only heightens the anxiety and makes me feel more like I’m a bad person for being sick.  But I knew I couldn’t keep fighting these things with ice and ibuprofen.  It’d be really nice to know what the hell is going on.  I have a list of things to take with me to the doctor so he/she can help narrow it down.  Of those things, a couple are first time issues so I’m guessing it’s them.  Need the experts to narrow it down.

I tried watching The Bachelorette finale, but social media had already spoiled the outcome.  It’s a silly, shallow show.  I’d love to change it to actually be some sort of meaningful endeavor, but I guess that isn’t what America wants.  Besides, it just reminds me that almost anyone can find love.  And then the previews for Bachelor in Paradise just made me think that anyone I did think was decent is just a piece of crap.  Or, perhaps, beautiful and desperate with some serious self-esteem issues.  Sheesh.  People will do anything these days for a little bit of money and fame.  I challenge how happy it has made them.  Having trashed the show I just spent 8 or so weeks devoted to watching, I will just put it out there if Luke Pell wants to go out and grab dinner and a movie, I’ll clear my calendar. 😉  

Happy loving!